left when unable to find me, I prepared to sally forth again, as it was rather more dangerous to be in the houses than in the streets, the soldiers entering and pillaging them one by one, and of course slaughtering anybody they found within.  No sooner, however, had I got to the front, than I unexpectedly encountered the very man who had driven me in, retiring laden with booty.  He dropped his plunder at once upon seeing me, and handled his bayonet to run me through.  We were in a little low room, with a door in a corner opening on the street.  He made a furious thrust at me; by a quick movement I evaded it.  The steel grazed my left side, and crashed through the wall behind me, to which I was pinned by the clothes, and as he tried to withdraw his weapon, I had a fair stroke at him in return.  The axe was very sharp; rage and despair seemed to have doubled my strength, and I split his skull half-way down to the jaw.  Brains and blood were scattered over me, as he sank dead at my feet.

I felt no inclination to stay any longer, and was about to take my departure, when it struck me that I might as well arm myself with my defunct antagonist’s rifle and cartridge-pouch.  This led immediately to a better idea.  The Jap was a man of nearly my own stature; why not put on his clothes?  It was fast darkening, and aided in the deception by the obscurity, my chance of escape would be greatly increased, though I began to have an uneasy feeling that it would be a miracle if I escaped destruction anyhow.  I immediately acted on the inspiration.  The soldier, I have said, was nearly of my own height (5 ft. 6 in.), but I was a good deal broader across the shoulders, and I made an extensive split up the back of his tunic in struggling into it.  That, however, was no great matter, and I was soon equipped in all his outer casement, except his cap, which had been bisected along with his head.  There was a little keen dagger in his belt, and with it I cut off my moustache as close as I could, as the Japanese seldom have much hair on their faces.  Then, not forgetting his rifle, a beautiful Lee-Metford, I sallied forth, carrying my discarded clothes over my arm, a circumstance not at all likely to attract attention, as they were all loading themselves with booty.

I was undecided enough how to proceed.  I might pass out into the open country north of the town, but if I did so I should probably either die of starvation or get killed as a Japanese straggler.  I began to think my best course would be to return to the port, and take my chance of getting away in some small vessel.  First of all, however, I resolved to complete my intention of seeing what was going on at the inn, to which I was now quite close.  I kept boldly on, and my disguise answered admirably, not one of the soldiers seeming to suspect that I was anything but a comrade.  Now and then I would be greeted by wild cries in their high, shrill voices, or one, waving his rifle, would shout something as